


New Kid in Detention

by Bookworm452



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Adopted Tommy Oliver, Are two universes colliding? Cross-over between Power Rangers (2017) and Power Rangers, Bisexual Tommy Oliver, Female Tommy Oliver, Gen, Native American Tommy Oliver, Tommy Oliver and Dr. Tommy Oliver try to figure it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 14:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookworm452/pseuds/Bookworm452
Summary: Tommy Oliver is not looking forward to that detention.





	New Kid in Detention

**Author's Note:**

> A random one shot based on the discussion of Tommy Oliver being a girl in the next Power Rangers film and I'd love to see them keep the character Native American. I don't mind on the gender. It would be interesting to see a female Tommy Oliver - Kim and Tommy possibly (although I think she's straight in the film? It would mean that she is at least bi)? Tommy and Trini? Tommy and Billy? Many ships...  
> Fan casting idea for a Native American female Tommy Oliver: Kawennáhere Devery Jacobs. Also that picture that was released on Instagram of the Green Rangers helmet looked particularly female. Could be because it was Rita's design, could just be concept art. Was considering writing a bit more of this. Depends on whether people want to see more.  
> I can't remember what address Billy asked that Jason still lived at and I couldn't find it on a Google search. It is taken from the name Victor Lee - an apparent inspiration for the original Jason.  
> One last note. I have no idea how Saturday detention works because we don't have them in the UK. I did a little bit of research and guessed based off of things that I've seen.  
> This doesn't have to be a one shot. I am considering making it longer. I know the title is lame but it's all I could think of.

Tommy pursed her lips, crossing her arms over each other and resting her chin on them moodily as she heard her mother's distinct muttering from the hallway. She swung her legs, banging loudly against the kitchen counter. Her long pyjama sleeves covered her bruised and scrapped hands, the long legs trailed past her toes to the bottom of the bar stool she was perched on.  
Detention. On a fucking Saturday. Wasn't even her fault. Stupid fucking teachers.  
Her father sighed from back doorway, banging his muddy boots against the step.  
"Stop sulking." Her mother said, finally wandering in. The older woman's grey eyes glancing over her face as she reached out, tilting her daughter's head towards her. The scabs, scrapes and bruises on her face becoming clearer.  
Tommy jerked her head out of her mother's grasp.  
"Angel Grove was supposed to be a new start." The elder woman frowned.

'Not this lecture again.'

They were all supposed to be new starts.  
"Would have been." She countered, unfolding her arms. "If teacher's didn't keep bringing up my record. Giving me detentions left, right and center for nothing. Probably for breathing."  
"Fighting all the time isn't nothing. What you did during the induction day wasn't either." Her father piped up as he walked into the kitchen.  
"It's not my fault."  
"Oh it isn't?" He asked in mock surprise, raising his eyebrows.  
"No." Tommy said as she pulled her long, dark hair behind her into a ponytail and tied it with the elastic band around her wrist.  
"How come everyone says that you throw the first punch? All the time?" Her mother's voice was stern.  
Her heart was pounding violently in her chest. She knew what she wanted to she say. She did want to tell them to truth. The mocking things that drove her up the wall. They labelled her all sorts of shit. Everything from immigrant to Satanist.  
Of course one kid had to find out that -  
"Well?" Her father interrupted her thoughts.  
"They're lying." The lie slipped easily from her lips. She ran a thumb over a bruise on the back of her hand.  
"Bullshit!" Her mother scoffed.  
Tommy ignored them both. Ignored their piercing gazes. Tried to ignore this entire futile situation. They wouldn't get it. They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't understand the feeling of walking through a sea of people and feeling all alone... They all knew where they came from, who they belonged to. They knew their families were their real families, was their blood. Not that she didn't love her parents - she did - but this was not something that she felt like she could talk about.  
"What's the point in you going to all these martial arts classes if they're not teaching you discipline?" Her mother continued on. "Six different types of martial arts. Yet not one of them teaching you an ounce of self discipline."  
"Is really that hard to walk away?" Her father sounded tired.  
The young woman stretched out her calloused fingers.  
"I shouldn't have to." She murmured, half hoping that they wouldn't hear her.  
"Oh and why's that?"  
"Andrew!" Her mother snapped. "Don't take that tone with her."  
'I'm right here.I'm right fucking here.' She wanted to scream.  
"I'm going to get dressed." She said instead as she hopped off of the bar stool, practically running as she headed into the hall. Stomp, stomp up the carpeted stairs. Ignoring the newly framed photo of her and her parents. A rare beam on her face. Clearly not related to them; she with her dark hair, dark skin and dark eyes.  
The door bounced off the wall with a loud bang.  
"Her behaviour is unacceptable, Elaine." Her father's voice drifted up through the open door.

"I'm not making excuses for her." her mother protested.

"It's been 10 years. She's not any less angry."

"Yeah, she's getting worse."

She unbuttoned the top, pulled off the bottoms before turning to what was the current state of her room. Her bed shoved against one wall and piles and piles of cardboard boxes. At least she had something to do when she got back.

Now, which box was her underwear in again?

She yanked open one of the boxes and started to search through it. She managed to fish out a dirty off-white bra and a pair of slightly holey underwear. She dug through another box to find actual clothes. She pulled on her favourite jeans. Slightly dirty, still too big jeans with a massive rip that showed all of her right knee and a good chunk of her left calf and a big black belt to hold them up.

"You think she might need to see someone?" Her mother questioned from below.

Wait, what?!

"Do you think it will help?"

No. No it mostly certainly will not help dad!

"It might."

Her heart pounded. Oh… No, not again. She'd had that when she was a child. Been there, done there. Got the fucking t-shirt. She'd seen enough of therapy and therapists to know that she hated them. Tommy would kick up a fuss and dig her heels in if they wanted her to go see a therapist. She'd rather go through the year of weekend detentions. That wall looked like it could withstand a punch or two.

"Try and get her through this detention first." The older woman sighed.

The tension in her shoulders loosened slightly and breathed in a sigh of relief. No therapist. Nobody poking around her head, controlling her future based random trains of thought or what they thought she was thinking. Maybe if she showed them she was willing to go to the detention, they'd stop thinking about the therapist.

Throwing on a loose white t-shirt, she stomped down the stairs, grabbing her combat boots as she went. Of course that didn't mean she had to stay in the detention.

"Do you think she'll just start another fight in detention though? Maybe she shouldn't go."

Tommy shoved her boots on, tucking the jeans into them. The denim gathered around the top of them when she stood up.

"I think you're worrying unnecessarily."

"Am I? You think she wouldn't start a fight in detention would she?"

"Depends on the other kids there… The principal said that there would be a teacher watching them."

"That doesn't make me feel better." Her mother grumbled.

"I'm ready." She called, butting into the conversation. She yanked her green jacket off of the sofa and shrugged it on, grabbing her bag and shoving her notepad and pens further into it.

* * *

"Is it too late to move to Reefside?" She asked, gazing out at the destruction as her mother stopped at a red light. The husks of shops and piles of rubble. The building sites all over the place. Fucking hell, it was a mess.

"Yes." Her mother said with finality. "You didn't like Reefside. You said there wasn't any museums."

"And you listened? It's not like Backwatersville, USA has any good ones either."

"We can go to one next weekend. Where was the one you wanted to go to? Was it the one at Briarwood?"

"No. We went there already. It was in Stone Canyon. Which is miles away."

"We could make a day of it. Maybe get dinner and lunch out. Have a mini roadtrip."

"You actually want to go to the museum?"

"No." The older woman sighed. "But you do."

"You don't have to go."

"No, I want to go with you. But you might make some friends here and they might go with you." Her voice quivered slightly, rising up at the end, almost as though it was a question. But it wasn't.

Tommy had a brief glimpse of the students the induction day before the incident. None of them seemed like people she'd ever be able to get alone with. If this place was anything like any of her other schools, then that answer was un-fucking-likely. Hell, almost certainly a big fat no.

Her mother glanced at her and sighed. The light was still red. She reached over a pale hand, hesitantly. "You know, o-other girls your age-"

"You mean normal girls?" She interrupted. Not this conversation. Again.

"They go out together. They do things like go to parties … things… They aren't into martial arts and dinosaurs." She continued, as though Tommy had never spoken.

'Mom, are you asking me to spend time getting drunk? I'm bad enough sober.' She thought, imagining the fights she'd get into if she started drinking as well.

"You and dad didn't think there was anything wrong with that."

"I know. I know we didn't. But we were hoping maybe you'd make some friends here."

"I made some friends at Turtle Cove." Tommy protested.

Her mother shot her a look.

" _Real_ friends." The older woman reiterated. "Maybe a boyfriend… Or a girlfriend… Who knows. You might meet the one here."

"I highly doubt that." She snorted.

"Maybe you could try a new sport. What about surfing?"

"There's no surfing clubs or anything here. I don't fancy doing that. Besides I don't think surfing is my thing. I think the six different classes I'm currently in is enough. At this rate I probably won't have time for friends."

"Try to make some though."

"In detention? Of all places you'd want me to make friends I'd doubt detention would be one of those places…"

"I was talking to one of the women at the shop yesterday and they were saying that her son was in these detentions as well."

"Don't go setting me up, mom." She warned.

"I know you don't want to be set up but he could be a friend."

No. NO. Stop. She knew that tone.

"She said her son's name was Jason. I'm sure he'd be happy to show you around."

"You  _are_ trying to set me up. I don't want a boyfriend mom. Or a girlfriend. Or any romantic relationship. Not until I've got settled in at the very least. Okay?"

"I just - I just want you to be happy."

"I don't have to be in a relationship to be happy."

"No, I know you don't… I just worry. I want you to be happy. I want you to get a job."

"Why wouldn't I get a job?"

"You might not at this rate. You won't get a very good reference from any of your teachers if you continue. You could end up with a criminal record. What kind of job could you get if you do?"

"Cage fighting." She shrugged.

"This isn't funny, Tommy."

"I never said it was. Relax, I'll try to not get a criminal record."

"Tommy. Don't be a smart ass."

"I'm not." She held up her hands in a surrender position.

She felt like she wanted to explain but knew her mother would never get it. They were so normal and they wanted so much for her. They had so much hope for her future. She had so little. She didn't know where she came from and had no idea where she was going. It was lonely. When everyone knew who they were. When you didn't feel good enough for your birth parents. For your birth mother. It was disappointing to think that you weren't good enough to be loved by your birth mother. A woman that carried you for so long.

She'd spent so much time wondering. Was it because she was a girl? Was it because she wasn't white? What? What was it?

Then the further disappointment that nobody knew. Nobody could answer those questions.

Then the anger. The anger and shame of not feeling good enough. Why wasn't she good enough? Was there something about her that made her not enough for her biological parents? It felt like something was missing. Like she was missing an arm and wasn't able to realise it. A hole that anger tried to fill. She was a human. She was a person. But she was enough for Andrew and Elaine. They loved her.

After that, there was the fear. She was scared for herself. Scared she would find answer she wouldn't like. Scared of never finding an answer. Scared that everyone would leave her. Maybe they should. Why not? The two people who should have loved her most in the world didn't. Had left her.

They should just leave her because they would in the end. Her biological parents left her. And if they wouldn't stick around, why should anybody else?

"Tommy." Her mother interrupted her thoughts. "Did you hear what I said?"

"No, sorry, mom. I was miles away."

"I was saying that a Mr Barlow will be waiting in the school reception for you. He'll show you where you need to go."

"Okay." She muttered monotonically.

* * *

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Her fingernails went on the empty reception desk. If he wasn't here in one minute, she was leaving. Her mother was probably long gone by now, she just had to be back in a few hours and nobody would ever now.  
"Tomina!" A male voice called.

Fuck.

Down the corridor was a bearded chubby man, dressed in a shirt and trousers, heading towards her. Mr Barlow, she had to assume.

"Tomina Oliver?"

"It's Tommy." She corrected, not bothering to smile. His breath stank of coffee.

He nodded.

Well, at least he didn't question her and give her disgusted look like other teachers had. Yet.

"So you're the one that all the fuss is about? A little thing like you?"

Never mind.

Tommy wanted to grab him by his big bushy beard and slam his head on to the desk. Her hand curled into a fist.

"Where's detention?" She asked instead.

He teacher peered at her, a 'v' creasing between his eyebrows in confusion.

"It's this way." He replied, gesturing down the corridor and waiting for her to make a move. His eyes were wary, regarding her as though she was a wild animal. She wasn't a snake, she wasn't going to strike and kill without warning.

The corridors were boring and white, identical white doors, like hospital doors. Typical fluorescent lights. Urgh. Would it kill them give the place some colour? Hopefully the hospital interior wasn't prophetic.

"I'm sorry but I gotta ask. Tommy?" He finally questioned.

"It's easier to pronounce then Tomina." Especially when you're seven.

"And your file said you've moved around a lot." The teacher stated, breathing coffee all over her.

"No it doesn't say it but you know that. It says that I got kicked out of a lot of schools for fighting." She corrected him, her tone icy and heart pounding. It probably says that the school didn't want to take her and would happily send her to the nearest school for troubled kids but it would also say whatever reason her parents used to get the school to take her.

Elaine and Andrew's faces popped into her head again. Their pleading eyes telling her that this was her last chance.

"Why did you punch him?" His voice and stinky breath pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I need to know if you're going to do it again today. If you are, you can leave right now." Mr what was his name again? Barlow informed her. His face and tone was stern.

"I didn't plan on hurting anyone and I don't plan on doing it again. But if I get pushed, Mr Barlow, I probably will."

Barlow's face gained a bit of colour as he nodded.

"What made you want to supervise detention on a saturday since we're getting personal?" She probed, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

"Honestly? The pay. I need the extra money."

"Makes sense." She admitted.

The teacher pointed to a pale door like the others.

"It's in there. I'll be in a few minutes. Just got some stuff to sort out." He informed her as he wandered off down the hall.

She stared after him, her stomach clenching. The shiny door handle felt like it was staring at her, daring her to open it.

What type of kids would be in here? Was this going to turn into Breakfast Club?

She opened the door and saw stairs… Stairs… Was this the basement? Were they locking everyone in the basement?

The room was empty. Early for detention. Wonderful. Blue walls, shiny wood floor, different types of desks and chairs everywhere. She headed down the stairs, her boots stomping and echoing off the walls of the empty room.

She headed to a corner table (wow, they were big), stripped off her jacket and put it over the chair. She dumped her notepad and pen on the desk and her bag on the floor. She was not going to sit here and wait for everyone else to turn up, like a good little girl.

She grabbed the change from her pocket and headed out.

* * *

With a cold can of coke in hand (after a while searching - what kind of school didn't have vending machines in the cafeteria?), she yanked open the door of doom and headed back into detention. The room wasn't full but it wasn't empty either. Two kids sat perfectly in a few desks, perfectly paying attention, pens in hand, ready to work. Like good little angels. The girl with short black hair and perfect makeup - a stuck up cheerleader if she ever saw one - tilted her head. Her perfect lips tilted down slightly as she looked at her. The kid next to her, sat up straight as he looked at her. His light brown hair was perfectly combed over and styled like a good boy going to scouts. Urgh. The black boy next to him was rearranging his pencils on his desk, quietly muttering under his breath.

"-iver. I just saw - Ahh." He finally saw her, from the corner of his eye, heading down the steps. "How nice of you to grace is with your presence, Miss Oliver. If you try that again, I'll have you in suspension on Monday." The teacher informed her with a glare.

She waved him off and flopped down into her seat, with little grace and more of a thump. Instead of following suit with the other kids, she got out her phone and scrolled through facebook. One of her old friends in Turtle Cove had posted some pictures of her birthday party. Thanks for the invite Tia.

One 'BREAKING NEWS' post listed something about the government and the CIA coming to Angel Grove. Oh wonderful.

'... with last week's terrorist attack. Citizens who were in downtown Angel Grove at the time of the attack appear to be confused and are claiming that an alien was responsible for the attack on the town. The CIA will also be investigating whether the water has LSD in it, given some of the quotes we have received from citizens in Angel Grove.'

Aliens? Seriously?

She opened the google app, typed 'Angel Grove attack' and hit search. The first few results were videos. Tommy put her phone on silent and hit play. The camera was shaky and amateur but rubble and destruction was clear as was a giant fucking hole in the middle of the road, a billowing black plume of smoke rising from it and in front of that was a giant fuck-off multicoloured transformer. Instead some clear bubbles were humanoid figures, wearing what looked like armour.

The other video was a shaking video of the armoured humanoids (what's with the primary colours?) running around the downtown. The armour was shiny and covered them like a second skin. Unless they really were aliens and this what they actually looked liked. What kind of world would they have come from if that was the case?

The last video was a video of colour robot creatures. A few were dinosaurs. Facing off against some giant golden monster… Someone really wanted to recreate that one scene from Thor apparently. Why was it attacking Krispy Kreme? Was this the new commercial? 'So good aliens want to invade over our doughnuts'? But that was still a lot of effort to go through for a hoax. Someone really wants a medal.

"Ms Oliver?!" The teacher's voice was raised and annoyed, this wasn't the first time he'd asked.

"Yeah?"

"Don't have something to do instead of being on your phone?"

"Nope." She shrugged. "I don't have any work to do."

* * *

Tommy rested her head on the desk, lighting blowing her pen along the surface and waiting for it to roll back. She was so bored. Her phone battery had died after half an hour on candy crush.

"Alright, that's it for today. You can all go," Mr Barlow told them, packing his stuff up, "I'll see you all next week."

She slowly raised her head from the desk, eyes blinking tiredly and grabbed the can. She gulped the last mouthful and – ew! Flat and warm. Boy-scout Hair, his red shirt had a faded logo on (was that an Angel Grove sports team?), started to approach. The black boy reached out hesitantly towards him.

"Jase, I-I'm not-"

"I'm just going to say hi."

"Erm-" The boy looked uncomfortably towards the dark haired girl.

"Is everything okay?" She asked him quietly, glancing around the room. Her dark eyes rested on her for a second longer than the rest.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. Okay. Grumpy.

The boy murmured a long reply, too quietly for her to hear as she packed her stuff up.

"Seriously?"

"Yes." His face paled.

"Jase-" The girl turned to Jase. Must be short for Jason.

Would they hurry up and get out of her way to the door? That would be lovely.

"Hey!" A different angry voice called as she threw her jacket back on. "Hey! I'm talking to you bitch."

Stalking towards her was an angry-looking red head, his hair looked like it needed a good brush and the black sweat band seemed to come straight from the 90s.

"Who the fuck are you?" She questioned.

"You put my friend in the hospital you twee bitch!" He snarled, reaching out and giving her shove into the desk behind her.

A quick jolt of dull pain spread through her legs from where it banged into the desk. It felt like there was an itch forming beneath her skin. BOOM BOOM BOOM went her heart, pounding almost painfully in her chest. Her hands curled into fists, nailing digging into her palms as a dull ache settled into her jaw and Tommy realised that she was clenching her teeth together.

"He deserved it." She replied. The effort was hurting to wretch her mouth open to form words.

"The fuck he did you stupid immigrant!" The boy replied. The black boy behind her dropped whatever he was holding, landing with a clatter.

She threw a single punch to his jaw and he fell, out cold, to the ground with a dull thump. Her fist ached dully as she uncurled it, the knuckles throbbing slightly from where she'd managed to land the blow directly on the bone.

"Why'd you do that?" Jason asked in clear disbelief.

"You heard him. He called me a fucking immigrant." She scoffed. "He was looking for a fight."

"What did you do to his friend?" The girl demanded, finally speaking directly to her.

"And you lot are?"

"I'm Jason Scott. My mom told me that she met your mum and she just wanted me to say hi. If you want any help with anything."

"Help?"

"Yeah." He smiled like he was trying to put her at ease.

If she had been anyone, it probably would have done. It probably would have endeared him to her.

"If you need any help with finding your way around town or around the school." He explained, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

Was he trying to ask her out?

"Right."

"I'm Kimberly." The dark haired girl held out her hand but she didn't smile at her. Hesitantly Tommy took her hand and shook it for a brief moment.

"Tommy Oliver."

"So why did you put Eugene in the hospital?"

"Oh, was that his name? It wasn't as bad as people are making out. The police haven't been involved." She explained.

"You still haven't said why." The black boy protested, walking closer to her. A bit too close, her eyes widened.

"Billy," Kimberly reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"What?" Billy asked.

"Too close." Jason murmured quietly but she doubted that she was meant to hear it.

"Oh." He realised, beaming brightly and shuffled back slightly. "Thanks."

"He was trying to come onto me. Tried to feel me up. Figured nobody could say that I was asking for it." She shrugged.

"Fair play." Kimberly agreed, glancing at Jason. "I've heard other girls say that he tried it on with them."

"So if you want any help, I live at 1992 Victor Drive."

"Okay. Thanks." Tommy said slowly. "I might see you all on Monday then."

She headed up the stairs and shoved open the door, glancing behind her to see that the three of them were talking and that jack-ass was still laid out on the nice shiny wood floor. A man in a green t-shirt stood in the hall, heavily tattooed muscled arms crossed across his chest as he looked at the trophy case, his eyes intently looking at the name 'JASON SCOTT' on the back of the shirt.

"See anything interesting?" She spoke up before she could stop herself.

"Not really. It's the same in every school isn't it?"

"Yeah… And people think it define their lives."

"Didn't define mine." The man grinned. "Don't let them get you down."

"Who said anybody was getting me down?"

"I know the look, kid. I was a teenager once too."

"Oh yeah?" She asked, her lips twitching into a grin. "Was that when dinosaurs still roamed?"

"Wasn't that long ago."

"Oh, no the Cretaceous era was only 66 million years ago. You know what? I think I remember that. Waking up and seeing an albertosaurus walking past my window every window."

"Don't you pay attention to the news kid? There were dinosaurs around last week."

"You still trust the news? It was a hoax. Golden monsters and robot dinosaurs. What's next flying monkeys?"

The man laughed. "Maybe a cyborg or a giant scorpion."

"What you here for? A trip down memory lane?"

"No. I was considering applying for a job."

"Here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. "In a town with robot dinosaur attacks?"

"Good a place as any."

"Wow, you must be bored with whatever you're doing now… Or desperate."

He laughed as a phone chimed.

She checked hers. No texts. No missed calls. No messages of any kind. She just wasn't that popular. Ha. Not that she would be, having only been here for half an induction day and a Saturday detention.

"It's mine. It's just a friend. They're waiting for me in the parking lot. Forgot that I was supposed to be heading straight out. I just got distracted by this." He gestured to the trophy case.

"Well they have to show off, don't they?" Tommy grinned.

The man smiled, putting his phone away and put on a pair of wire-framed glasses.

"Now you look like a teacher." She joked.

"Good because I am one. Just not here. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She replied sincerely. She was, actually. He seemed like someone she could actually get along with. Shame he was leaving.

"Where do you work?"

"Reefside High."

"Ouch." She pretended to wince. "Could be worse, I suppose."

"I like it." He countered, starting to head towards the doors. He paused as he passed her, resting a hand on her shoulder for a moment.

"Good luck kid."


End file.
